


Fading

by Volupturex



Category: Original Work
Genre: Asphyxiation, Blood, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Choking, Fantasy, Gore, Snuff, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 00:52:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19307305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volupturex/pseuds/Volupturex
Summary: I honestly just wrote this because I had a dream where I, as one of my characters, died in this manner. I'm not typically one to write or..enjoy snuff, but I wanted to try when I woke up because of how vivid it is. So...enjoy? I hope? Feedback is welcome--even if it's not my usual thing, I do want to do it well.Essentially, a half-fae caught in a battle is trapped and killed by his opponent. There's some gore, there's pain, death.





	Fading

Stumbling back, slipping on the blood of other fallen men--panting, struggling to unsheath his blade. The god was smirking, hefting his morningstar as he slowly cornered the fae. There was nowhere to run--nowhere to escape. More of the near-titans lurked around every corner, thirsting for blood. His blood. He was exhausted; wounded--and by now, he knew he was only prolonging the inevitable. He had given up; and the giant, bored of the game and ready to end this--gave a short rush. 

He was pressed into the table within seconds, the spikes of the morningstar digging into his chest as he was pushed back--dwarfed by the burly, towering figure above him, bearing down as one hand grabbed his shoulder--forcing him down, bent over backwards. His eyes were wide, his breaths quick and shallow as he scrabbled for a grip on the wooden table, his boots slipping and struggling to find purchase. “Please--” His voice was hoarse, the fae’s eyes shimmering with gold--boasting his nature in a last-ditch attempt to plead for mercy. “I can--I can do wh--whatev--” His words faded as the morningstar pressed in--a discomfort quickly becoming lethal as his chest was crushed--his breaths choking out, ribs cracking as his lungs were punctured--his breaths were wheezing, whistling--already, the panic of death was setting in--his legs kicking, hands reaching for the weapon so bluntly putting an end--slow as it might be--but there was no strength left in his body.

Nothing left. Just those blue eyes, staring him down--he could tell his killer was smiling, even as his vision grew black and fuzzy around everything else--his heart was pounding, beating--slowly, ponderously--blood trickling down his chin, thick and dark. Blackness, closing in. Magic, pulsating with his fading heart; bleeding from his skin into the air--leaving him painfully mortal. Painfully human. Dying. His fingertips were tingling. He was painfully aware of his fingernails; while his chest felt numb. His breaths heavy--though by now, he realized his breaths were not accomplishing anything. Better to just let them die--to not gasp and flop like a fish--but with this consciousness left in him, he couldn’t fathom anything else. 

He couldn’t see those eyes anymore; but he thought they were still boring into him. He was floating; the transition had eluded him, but now here he was, detached from body, detached from light, detached from pain. Only tired--only fading away. 

The body had slumped to the floor, blood pooling in his chest cavity as the morningstar was pulled free; not an ounce of magic remained in the corpse; it had all been siphoned away, stored carefully in a little vial. Fae magic would fetch a pretty penny--even this diluted stuff marred by humans was enough to pay off debts, at least. No more than that. But as a fraction of the spoils of war--if this could be called that--it would do. The titan scoffed, giving the body a kick before turning and making his way back to his brethren. Good riddance.


End file.
